


Love Shot

by ninibears_erigom



Series: EXO Smut Scenarios [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Bad Boy Kim Jongin | Kai, EXO Smut, F/M, Kim Jongin | Kai-centric, jongin smut, kai smut, mafia!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 13:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17023731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninibears_erigom/pseuds/ninibears_erigom
Summary: Mafia King and notorious playboy, Kim Jongin, doesn’t care for anything other than power and money while all you want is your freedom. Love can change many things.





	Love Shot

There’s always one scum bag at the bar who tries to get your number and no matter how clearly you show that you are not interested, they  _always_  think they are God’s gift to women and you should be  _honoured_ that they wanted to  _‘get to know’_  you. This prick is no exception to the rule and even though you tried every trick in the book – even saying you were married – he still waited until the bar was closed and you were strolling out the back door.

He pushes off the car and makes his way towards you, swaying from one too many beers and reeking of alcohol, “hey, beautiful,” he slurs and you groan, rolling your eyes as you walk past him and his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. “I’m talking to you, stay and entertain me for a while – I’ll make it worth your time.” He grins, puckering his lips to make his intention clear and you try to pull yourself free.

“Please, let go.” You ask nicely, at first. You’ve dealt with enough of these guys to know how to make a quick escape because the moment the parking lot is clear – there is no help until you run up the road a tad.

Why did you get a job at the scenic bar off the main road?

He tugs and you hold fast, planting your feet firmly on the gravel to keep from moving until he tugs harder and you tumble into him; he smirks, his rank breath making you gag and in one swift move, you knee him right in the groin. The man drops to the ground, cursing you while trying to clutch your ankle as you make your escape; he calls out to you, still refusing to give up as you look behind briefly to see that he’s chasing you. You are glad you didn’t wear heels to work today as you make your way towards the road, taking a shortcut through the woods to get to the town faster.

Looking back briefly, you see him follow and you curse under your breath, willing your legs to move faster before colliding with a solid frame; slightly dazed, you think you’ve run into a tree before looking up and seeing a man dressed in a black suit standing above you, coldly looking down at you.

You swallow thickly, slightly scared by the way his face seems to be hidden by the shadow of the woods but as you hear the drunken man grow closer, you beg for help. “Sir, please help me,” you can feel him looking at you despite not seeing his eyes, “this man he-”

You hear gasping as the man stops behind you, doubling over to catch his breath, “baby, why’d you run away for?” He chuckles, wiping sweat from his brow as he makes his way to you and lifts you up by the bicep, “come on, we were just messing around,” he turns to the stranger, “sorry for her clumsiness.” You shake your head, refusing to go quietly as you fight his tight hold.

“Please,” you beg, pushing yourself free and trying to plead with the suited man who stands there and silently watches the drama unfold, “he was harassing me at work all day and now he’s stalking me.” Your bottom lip quivers in fear as you wonder if he would do anything or just stand there and watch you get taken away.

The drunken man seems to be annoyed by your antics, pulling your arm again and laughing at how nothing comes of your begging; you resign to the fact that you may not escape this time. “Stupid bitch,” he slurs, pulling you into his chest and forgetting the other presence, “he probably saw a pretty little fuck like you and thought exactly what I was thinking.” His lips get closer and you whimper, lowering your head to avoid him.

But the kiss never touches you.

You’re pulled out of his hold and the click of a gun brings your attention to the other man, his face now half illuminated by the moonlight as his silver 9mm glints as it points at your stalker. You are terrified, you went from dealing with a stalker to running into a man, in the dark of the woods, who’s carrying a gun and willing to use it; but you are also shocked by how beautiful he is from what you can see. His almond shaped eyes narrow as he glares at the drunk, his nose strong and plump lips pull into a frown, his jaw clenches and you swear it’s as sharp as a knife.

You shake yourself free from the mixed emotions that your saviour – or attacker – caused when you hear his deep, husky voice speak. “On your knees,” he commands and you watch as your offender cowers, slowly dropping to his knees without taking his wide, fear-stricken eyes off the barrel of the gun. “When you can no longer see our figures, you run and if I ever see your face again,” he pulls back the hammer and presses the barrel against his forehead and you hear a whimper escape the drunken man’s lips, “I’ll kill you; you fucken piece of shit.” He turns his cold, dark eyes on you before inclining that you go first.

The walk is quiet, suffocating as you chew your lip over whether to run or thank him but before you can say anything, he speaks gruffly. “You work at the bar back there?” You stop, looking back at him and with his longer legs, he strides past you and you have to run a little to catch up.

“Yes,” he says nothing but nods, looking straight ahead and you begin to wonder why a man wearing a black suit was hanging in the woods around midnight. “Why were yo-”

“Was there a man in there who looked like this?” He pulls his phone out and shows you a picture of one of the patrons you served earlier in the night; you nod slowly, looking at him and watching his features darken as he watches you, “are you sure?” He presses, you swallow before nodding again and he swears, running his hand through his hair; you notice he wears a very unpopular hairstyle, a light brown mullet with blonde hightlights and an undercut but strangely, it suits him.

Without warning, he grips your forearm and pulls you behind him, you nearly stumble as you try to keep up and when you break through the woods, you see that you’re at the back of a deserted parking lot of a shopping mall. He digs around in his pocket for his keys as he unlocks the blacked out Audi R8 and shoves you into the passenger seat. You try to protest, fighting him but one cold stare and your lips are clamped shut before he slams the door.

He gets into the driver seat and starts the car, speeding out of the parking lot without putting on his seatbelt or allowing letting you to put on your own. He manoeuvres through traffic easily while you grip the door and fear for your life.

You’ve been kidnapped – you think. You may die in this car with a strange suited man who drives like a maniac and all you can think of is how you wish didn’t cover your girlfriend’s shift tonight.

“I wish you would have fucken lied,” he growls, not looking at you as he turns sharply at the lights, causing a few cars to toot their horns, “I hate having to deal with loose ends,” you gulp, eyes widening at the depth of his words.

“L-loose ends?” He nods sharply and you stutter severely, “l-look, I-I don’t kn-know who that per-person was.”

He sighs, lifting a hand off the wheel to rub over his face, “you saw his face and you can put him at the bar; you’ve also seen my face and I can’t have you blowing my cover with the cops.”

“I won’t say anything!” You would say anything to save your life.

He chuckles humourlessly, “that’s what they all say, sweetcheeks but eventually, all birds sing.”

How does this happen? Where in life did you screw up so royally that you became a playboy Mafia King’s secretary?

Well, slave would be a more fitting term.

You sigh, staring at the computer screen as you type up a report that he’s been demanding since he walked into the office – late again. You think back at the past six months and how you went from a sweet bartender with ignorance about the world to being chained to a man that saved you that fateful night.

Well, he reminds you that you could have ended up worse if he wasn’t there but it doesn’t help that he was there because he had just  _killed someone_. If only you hadn’t worked that shift, none of this would have happened.

You begged him to spare your life, at the time you didn’t want to die and you said any and everything to keep yourself alive; he asked if you would be his secretary, at his beck and call day and night because on top of being a crime boss, he also ran a successful business that kept his underground business going.

A casino.

So that’s how you became Kim Jongin’s slave – erm, secretary.

You learnt over the first few weeks that he didn’t necessarily  _need_  you; he just wanted someone to deal with the paper work and reports while he seduced the pretty women that walked into his casino and caught his eye. You would be there until the dead of night while he was busy in his office with someone’s wife, working on things for the underground drug business he had and there early the next morning while he was sleeping God knows where with God knows who.

Jongin watched you like a hawk. He knew where you were, even when you had no idea where he was; you knew it was because you held the power to put him behind bars  _but_  he had the power to wipe you from the face of the Earth so you did everything you were told to do – even when you completely hated it. During the day, you answered phones, cleaned up his affairs with the many women he slept with, wrote reports and filed paper work while also attending meetings and wrote notes; at night, you contacted business partners, made sure drugs were going to where they were meant to and cleaned the money Jongin made, paying all the workers as well.

Yes, you got paid, quite well, but it will never erase the stain you now have on your soul because of him.

You hear giggling coming from the office and you curl your upper lip as you type furiously at the keys; you won’t admit it out loud to anyone but you are slightly jealous, you’ve been told you are quite the catch, naturally beautiful with ideal proportions for any man and Jongin’s a drop dead gorgeous man who you work closely with and yet – he’s never shown interest. You have checked him out, not openly but you’ve had to pull your eyes away from him so you don’t get caught staring, admired the way his suits hug his body and how when he  _actually_ works, he looks so damn sexy behind that mahogany desk.

The door opens and Jongin exits, his black dress shirt messy and his hair dishevelled while the lady who was inspecting the casino to make sure it’s up to par, leaves with a wide grin and smudged lipstick. “Always a pleasure coming to see you, Mr. Kim,” Jongin spanks her ass before giving her a wink, “you once again passed your inspection.” He chuckles before giving you a sly wink and returning to his office while you sit there looking disgusted.

What a pig!

You push your chair away from your desk and decide to face this head on; you’ve been his  _secretary_  for six months, nothing has come up about the patron who went missing all those months ago and maybe it’s your jealousy but you’ve had enough listening to his  _‘meetings’_  while trying to run _his_  casino. Some form of professionalism from his side would be helpful; you do  _everything_  and for all you know is that Jongin sleeps his way around town.

“Kim Jongin,” you don’t bother knocking, storming your way into the room like you own the place, “I have a bone to pick with you!” You stop in your tracks when you see that he’s wearing no shirt and only the red suit pants; you cover your eyes when you see him turn to face you, trying not to peek through your fingers.

God, did you want to look.

He frowns when he sees you covering your eyes, he knows you want to look; Jongin knows how you stare after him, how you do everything he commands so easily and never pack a fuss – hell, you’ve been a real help to him since you started. Jongin isn’t very good at expressing himself, he’s terrible at it and he finds with you, that he can’t say what he wants to so he keeps your work relationship how it is.

Simple.

He had you followed for the first two months, kept tabs on your phone and most times he would have you picked up and dropped off until he realised that your life is pretty quiet, you barely go out drinking, you prefer spending time at home and when you aren’t at home – you’re in the office. Knowing this, Jongin stopped and trusted that you’d keep your pretty mouth shut because you always do; even when you look disgusted, jealous or tired – you never mutter a word.

“What do you want?” His tone is harsher than he intends it to be but he can’t help but be displeased with your reaction – not that there’s been any deep and meaningful interactions between the two of you for you to  _openly_  look at him.

You keep one hand clamped over your eyes while waving a hand in his general direction, “can you put a shirt on, please?” He scoffs, shaking his head and reaching for his jacket.

“I don’t see why I should because this is my casino, my office and you barged in here like you own the place,” he smirks when a faint blush colours your cheeks and you mutter a quiet apology. He pulls his jacket on, leaving it unbuttoned as he runs a hand through his still damp hair. “There, happy?”

You finally look at him and your eyes widen in shock, his dark eyes watching you expectantly with a small smirk gracing his lips, his red jacket is unbuttoned and he wears nothing underneath – leaving his muscular torso and toned abdomen bare for your eyes to feast upon. Jongin shoves his hands inside his pants pockets and tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to speak. You stutter, eyes unable to look away as you fidget with the hem of your shirt. God, why did he have to look so damn sexy when you wanted to demand your freedom; Jongin’s a good man, kind of, he’s always been kind enough to you and despite his reputation – he’s never given you any reason to be scared of him but being scared of him isn’t why you cannot speak currently.

You lick your dry lips, clearing your throat as you try to look away and it’s hard, harder when Jongin moves closer to you and your gaze stares at his navel, at the waistband of his dark designer briefs. “Well,” he speaks softly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he watches you, amused with how much you are struggling with your thoughts. “Did you come in here for a reason?”

“I-I’m tired of working li-like this.” You stammer out, eyes slowly making their way up his body to look him in the eyes, his deep, brown eyes that make you want to lose yourself in him – no wonder he’s able to easily seduce any women, he’s not even trying with you and you feel like you’d do anything he asked you to. “I want,” you close your eyes briefly, breaking the spell he has over you and you inhale deeply before opening them again, “I want my freedom.”

Jongin shouldn’t have been surprised that you made such a demand but he is; you are indebted to him, he saved your life and gave you a job where you’ve made more money in six months than you could have working three years at that dive bar. In his own way, Jongin liked you; you are easy on the eyes, obedient and you do your job very well but now, you want to change all of that.

You want to leave.

You stand there, waiting for him to say something, anything, and all he gives you is a cold stare; he’s thinking, working out a way to have you stay. He could threaten you but you don’t respond well to those, you would probably cry and Jongin doesn’t handle crying women well either. Your eyes widen when he smirks, a mischievous look in his eyes as he runs a hand through his hair and nods, “you want your freedom, huh?” You nod slowly, “you want to spit in my face after everything I’ve done for you?” You go to retort but he silences you, “you owe me your life and if you weren’t so useful, I would have killed you months ago but now you are leaving me no choice.” He can see the fear in your eyes at his words and he grins inwardly as he knows you’ll accept anything he has to offer now because you value your life and will do  _anything_ to keep yourself alive.

And that’s exactly what he likes.

Jongin grips your chin, causing your heart to flutter because in all the months you’ve known him, never has he touched you – his warm touch matched with the close proximity of his bare chest makes your mind run wild. “How about this,” he leans closer, forcing you to look into his chocolate brown eyes, “you help me with a deal I’m making this weekend and if all goes in my favour – you’re free. I’ll even pay you handsomely for your services, for doing all the paper work over the last six months and keeping your mouth shut when asked how you came to be my secretary; you’ll never have to work another day in your life.”

“A deal?” You sound confused, as far as you know, there is nothing happening this weekend outside of being able to enjoy the weekend off. Jongin nods, eyes crinkling as he smiles; he knows that you always thought he didn’t do much, that all Jongin ever did was running around chasing tail and leaving you to do his job but you barely even scratch the surface of your boss.

While you stay late in the office, keeping his paper work in order for both his casino and the underground drug empire he runs; Jongin is in the field, making deals, making sure his supply is going where it should and that no-one messes with his men. You have no clue about the lives he’s taken, the fights he’s been in, the enemies he’s destroyed and the money he’s made because all you see is a notorious playboy who thinks about nothing but getting laid and you pass his hard work off because to you, you do all the work.

Because you don’t  _see_  or  _know_  what he really does when he’s not in the office.

Jongin leans closer, his breath fanning over your cheek as he stops inches away from your face, “you barely know me, Y/N; I’ll give you this one opportunity. You can either help me with this deal, take the money and your freedom and never see me again or,” he connects your lips, causing you to gasp at the sudden touch as his body presses closer to you – before he moves away. “Or you can help me with this deal and I’ll make you my Queen.”

You can’t breathe, his half-lidded eyes watch as your brain tries to think of something but all you can feel is how his chest was pressed against yours moments ago and how his lips felt like kissing a cloud; reality slaps you when you realise that Jongin has never shown interest in you, barely looked in your direction and flaunts his sexual encounters like trophies so why all of a sudden does he want to have you?

“You’ve never cared about me before, so why are you giving me that ultimatum now? Why not just give me the chance to pay you back so I can have my freedom?” A hand lifts to tug softly at his bottom lip, your words weighing deep on his mind as he tries to explain himself.

Kim Jongin is a man who excels in a lot of things, he’s been running his own drug chapter out of Seoul for five years and never had any problems that he couldn’t deal with, this casino was built within his first year of the business at 23 and it’s made its mark around the world and when it comes to women – he’s on a whole ‘nother level. All the men in his circle were raised in certain ways, some are elite marksmen, some dangerous businessmen but some, like himself, are notorious seducers – he knows his way around any women and it benefits him in  _so many ways_. Women hold the key to many deals, they know more than what they let on and hear almost everything around them and with the right touches, Jongin can have every women he wants eating out of the palm of his hand.

He only has one problem – emotions. Kim Jongin can deal with the most dangerous of men, he could charm the pants off of the Queen but when it comes to dealings of the heart – he’s completely useless because why would a Mafia King ever need to tell someone he actually may care for them?

From the night he met you, he can’t forget watching you beg for him to save you, how pretty you looked despite running through the woods and how even though you will listen to everything he tells you to do – your body language suggests that you really want to tell him to go and fuck himself. Where did it start? The night you fell asleep in the office, looking vulnerable and completely out of place in his world or when he heard you tell your co-worker to go and suck a dick when he implied something Jongin didn’t quite catch; whenever it was, Jongin knows he can’t let you go that easily.

That and because he doesn’t completely trust that you won’t say anything, even so what better way to keep you from opening your mouth than to keep you by his side?

“You barely know me,” he winks, shrugging out of the red jacket and stretching out his arms, “but if you want, you can have the chance.” You back away as Jongin stalks towards you, your eyes trained on his face while they fight the urge to look lower. Pressing you against the door, Jongin gives you a cocky smile when he feels your body adjust to his posture; instead of pushing him away, you try to get comfortable. “I’ll let you know the details of what I need from you and then after the weekend, you can decide what you want.” He whispers, looking down at you as you chew your bottom lip and he feels a stir at such a small action. “So will you be a good girl and listen?” You slowly nod and Jongin smiles, moving away and allowing you to take a deep breath – you’ll be so fun to mess with.

His wife.

That’s what Jongin wants from you – to play the role of his wife to catch the attention of another playboy King like himself, Zhang Yixing. Yixing is the King of China and along with other Kings from his circle, he’s coming to the casino to discuss business and have a bit of fun; business, Jongin explained, is how to make their product even better than their competitors.

You spend the week at Jongin’s residence rather than the casino; learning everything you can about your  _husband_  in a short amount of time and learn how to behave like a Mafia Queen rather than the secretary you’ve been for the past six months. Jongin’s been there for everything, the outfit fittings, the training and quizzing, and he had things to say about every little detail – which caused you to curl your lip at every time.

He could see the real you under all the obedience, the defiance and strength that you’ve learnt to hide away from working in the bar but Jongin needs that to come out – he pushes you at every turn and watches the cracks form until the day of the meeting.

“Do you need to scrutinize everything I do?” You stand in his home office, hand on your hip and annoyance clear on your made up face, “I’ve been doing everything that you and the woman you hired has told me to and yet, it’s not good enough?”

Jongin smiles before turning to face you, pretending to struggle with his gun holster, “yes, you’ve been very  _obedient_  like a good lap dog but Y/N,” he bites his lips and closes one eye as he tries to grab the other strap, “I need a strong wife who will kick ass first and ask questions later, not a good little bitch who will wag her tail at any man who praises her.” You huff, stomping over to him and helping him, making the holster uncomfortably tight as you look him in the eye.

“You want bad, huh?” You scoff and push him in the chest when he nods, “be careful what you wish for, Kim Jongin, I’ll give you exactly what you want before I get what I want.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he loosens the holster to the right fitting, “and what is it you want, baby? Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” You turn on your heel and walk towards the door, your heels clicking on the wooden floor and echoing in the silent, tension filled room.

“My freedom,” you respond before slamming the door behind you.

When you enter the casino with Jongin’s arm wrapped around your waist, you feel like the world is watching you but you smile confidently like you were trained to do. He gives a gentle squeeze every time you should acknowledge someone and he doesn’t let you go until he’s around the poker table with six other men. They all stare at you and Jongin but one’s eyes don’t wander from you, barely acknowledging your  _husband_  as he openly checks you out.

Zhang Yixing.

“Where are Sehun and Chen?” Jongin enquires, looking slightly disappointed but you know he probably doesn’t actually care.

“Chen’s wife is currently giving birth and Sehun, well,” a man with heart-shaped lips chuckles, “he’s dealing with a dognapping.” Jongin shakes his head, joining in with the laughter that erupts around the table while you barely smile and look away from Yixing.

“Who is this?” His voice is sweet, not as deep as Jongin’s but the elegant way he speaks causes shivers down your spine.

The rest of the group agree, suddenly wanting to know of the woman’s presence at their poker table; Jongin wraps his arm around you waist, pulling you to sit across his lap as he kisses your cheek. “This is Y/N, my wife.” You greet the table, subtly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to flash the large diamond ring Jongin had bought for show a few days ago.

Yixing looks amused by this introduction but another man narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Wife? Since when have you ever expressed any interest in settling down, Kai? Most of your dealings are either with guns or women – you really going to cut one of your favourite things out?” You knew he had an answer for everything, Jongin had told you to trust him but you couldn’t help but feel nervous by the questioning.

“Yes, Xiumin is right, we’ve never heard you mention her name before and now you want us to believe she’s your wife?” You recognise him as Kyungsoo; Jongin informed you he was one of the business men in his circle – a hard man to deal with.

You surprise Jongin, and yourself, by twisting in his lap and looking into his eyes with as much affection as you can muster; you allow the silent crush you’ve had on him for the past few months to show through as you run a hand through his gelled back hair, tugging slightly at the hair the covers the nape of his neck before pressing your lips against his. Jongin doesn’t hesitate, his hands wrap around you to pull you close, deepening the kiss with a nip at your bottom lip and causing you to part your lips; his tongue dances with yours as you keep playing with his hair – you’ve always wanted to see what he looked like with his naturally brown hair and no mullet but you’ve come to love his current styling.

Jongin feels the eyes watching, looking for a weakness to pounce upon and he doesn’t allow for such a mistake. When you pull away, panting with bruised lips, Jongin buries his head into your cleavage; he growls possessively as he nips at one of your breasts and hands grip your ass. You yelp slightly at the sudden movement but as you settle and begin to enjoy his gentle nibbles, a cough interrupts the two of you.

“We get it; she’s your wife. Are we playing or are we here to watch you dry fuck her at the table?” Yixing raises an eyebrow which Jongin responds with a smirk, indicating for the dealer to set the table.

“What are we playing for this time?” You stare at each man in awe as they casually voice their stakes – money, profits from business, houses and the like.

They act like they are playing monopoly and aren’t playing with real money.

Throughout the game, Jongin refuses to let you off his lap – even when you swear he’s finding it uncomfortable, he keeps you on his lap with your arm wrapped around his neck and watching as he concentrates on the game. His free hand tickles your thigh, absentmindedly trailing feather-light touches along the side of your short dress until he reaches your hip and then back down again while his face remains completely blank.

You can’t read him, normally he’s so easy to figure out but this isn’t Jongin, your playboy casino boss who so easily flirts with any woman who looks in his direction – this is Kai, a Mafia King who is cool, calm and calculated in any situation he needs to be.

As the game slowly progresses, each person folds until it is only Jongin and Yixing left to play. Jongin places a kiss on your exposed shoulder, whispering about how well you are doing while Yixing gets this mischievous glint in his eyes. “Eager to raise the stacks, my friend?” Jongin tilts his head; he was expecting this to happen and you know exactly what he’ll raise – even if you don’t like it. “If you win, I’ll give you three of my businesses in China,” his dark eyes flit towards you, “if I win, I get your wife”

“You know that’s off-limits, Lay.” One of the men growl but Jongin just smiles, kissing your cheek and sensing how nervous you become; he tilts your chin to look at him, his signature smile not reassuring the 50/50 chance he has of losing.

“Don’t you trust me, baby?” He wraps his arms around you, enjoying how perfectly you fit in them but keeping his face neutral, “don’t worry, the house  _always_  wins.”

The house lost.

Jongin looks shocked, mortified as Yixing stands up from his seat and waltzes around the table, grabbing your hand and pulling you off his lap; Jongin reaches for you instinctively, this wasn’t meant to happen. There is no way he should have lost that game and even though he lost one of his mansions in Busan, Jongin doesn’t care for that because he’s just lost  _you_.

“Would you like to give your husband one last kiss?” Yixing mocks you, seeing how scared you are as you squeeze Jongin’s hand – silently begging him to save you. “We have a flight back to China soon so I’ll grant you this one thing before taking you to your new home.”

Jongin stands up, feeling his heart clench as you slam into his chest as if you are trying to bury yourself inside him. He can feel you shaking, terrified because you now know that with Yixing – there is no escape. The guilt he feels weighs on him, he rests his chin on your shoulder as he apologises profusely but he knows there is nothing he can do right now – not in front of everyone. “I will save you,” he promises, cupping your cheeks and looking deep into your eyes, “I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to bring you back.” He seals his promise with a kiss, feeling the tears begin to fall from your eyes.

You’ve never felt such raw emotion in a kiss before; Jongin’s indifferent behaviour towards you over the past few months seemed like a lifetime ago as he tries his best to convey what he feels. Love wouldn’t be the right word, Jongin has never loved anyone before but adoration, care and affection is what you feel and something inside you realises that despite his lack of open admiration for you – Jongin has always cared, in his own way.

The kiss is broken when Yixing harshly pulls you away, feeling powerful as he watches the smallest amount of hurt flash across Jongin’s face. Never has anyone been able to make Jongin feel anything, not even the women he takes pleasure in but Yixing finally manages to steal away the only thing Jongin cares about more than himself – you.

Even if Jongin doesn’t fully realise his own feelings, Yixing can already see it in his eyes; Jongin will do  _anything_  to get you back – even create a war between the two of them and that’s what Yixing wants more than anything because in the game of Kings, winner takes all.

And Yixing plans on taking everything Jongin has.

If six months with Jongin made you feel like a slave, three weeks with Yixing made you feel worse; you had zero freedom, Yixing may as well have chained you to your bed because the large room and it’s painfully overly decorated walls were all you stared at for the majority of the time you spent in his home. If Yixing was home, you were allowed to roam the house and allowed to wander around the garden if he was with you but when he was out on business – the door was locked and your meals were passed through the door so you actually felt like you were a prisoner in a fancy prison.

There was only one thing that Yixing allowed you to have to pass the time – your phone. This is your only link to the outside world and to Jongin, which only made things more painful; why did Jongin have to wait until that night to reveal that he had some form of feelings for you? Why did this have to happen when you got to have something you had been secretly fantasising about for months?

Jongin had been calling every day, video calling every chance he was allowed and sent multiple messages throughout the day and every time you saw him – your heart broke.

“Why did you have to do this to me?” You sob on the phone, refusing to show your face to the camera so he couldn’t see how red and puffy your face looked, how drained and pale you had become in your own personal Hell. “You could have just let me go and instead…instead I’m probably going to die in this stupid house with a man I hate.”

Jongin sighs, rubbing his temple as he leans back in his home office chair, his black dress-shirt open enough for you to see his golden chest, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I can’t say it enough but I’ll get you back – I promised you that remember? I promised that you’ll come back to me.”

“Why?” Your words catch him off-guard, “why can’t you just let me have my freedom? I’m not one of the women who hang around you so you can have me whenever you’re bored, Jongin. I have feelings and I want the freedom to meet someone who will openly love me instead of whatever you’ve been doing for the past how many months.” You look at the camera and Jongin swears his heart just broke seeing how broken you are, he knows things have been rough but today, you look like you have finally given up.

He has no right to call you his, he’s given you no reason to accept who he is and to give him a chance but he wants to; the last three weeks, Jongin has barely eaten, slept or done anything other than find a way to bring you home. You are hurting because of him and Jongin wants nothing more than to make it right but he can’t say that now – not like this.

One of his men quietly enter the room, Jongin’s tired eyes lifting to acknowledge him before telling him to wait, “Y/N,” you look at him, you see how tired he looks, his features paler than the warm caramel tone he normally has and he’s overdue for a shave but you see determination in his eyes as he looks at you. “Don’t give up on me just yet; I’m coming to get you. Soon.” You half-heartedly nod, not quite believing him before hanging up and falling into the pillows, hoping sleep will come easy tonight.

Jongin looks up at his subordinate, indicating for him to speak. “We found the dealer, we have the confession and the plane is ready to go.” Jongin’s eyes narrow as his suspicions are finally confirmed. He never loses and he should  _not_  have lost that game and for weeks, Jongin has been obsessing over how this could have possibly happened. “Also, sir, Kyungsoo is here to speak with you.” Jongin sits up straight, running a large hand through his hair as he waits for Kyungsoo to enter.

Kyungsoo wears a full black suit, even his tie is pure black, as he strides into the room and takes a seat across from Jongin; he crosses his legs as he relaxes into the leather seat and gives Jongin an once-over. Kyungsoo is the one Jongin will ask advice from, his closest  _friend_  out of all of them, and today, Jongin needs his reassurance. His dark eyes take in Jongin’s tired, drained features, the coarse hair on his face and unkempt hair; his clothes are wrinkled like he’s slept in them but Kyungsoo doubts that Jongin has had a decent sleep in days.

“I’ve spoken to the others,” his voice is softly spoken but it carries a lot of weight and Jongin doesn’t need to struggle to hear the news he’s been waiting on to allow his mission. “If what you say is true then we won’t stand in your way,” Jongin’s about to leap for joy when his accomplice raises his hand to stop him, “but we do have one condition.”

“Anything, name it and you’ll have it.” Desperation is clear in his eyes as he leans forward.

Kyungsoo nods, not wanting to drag things out any longer, “if this is the path you take, the business will be divided between all of us – but we will allow his stakes to remain as your winnings.” He knows that Jongin doesn’t care about that because he’s already on his feet, hearing all he needs to know.

Standing up, Jongin grabs his jacket before heading for the car and instructing for the men he’s already placed in China to prepare for his arrival – he’s coming for you and he’s coming now.

The sounds of gunshots startle you awake, you push yourself off your stomach and strain your ears to hear for movement. You hear something smash outside your window and you rush to the large window that gives you wonderful view of the entire garden, only to see death.

Bodies are littered on the ground as a large group of men open fire on the house, you duck and try to escape but the door is still locked. Cursing, you look around for something to protect yourself with and find a vase, expensive looking but looking strong enough to knock someone out if you managed to hit them with it; you hide behind your door as you hear a loud bang from downstairs and the floor beneath you shakes slightly from whatever it was.

The gunshots grow louder as they enter the house, yelling and fighting filling your room as you clamp your eyes closed and try to keep yourself from crying. This is how it ends, you are going to die in this place and you bite your lip hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to escape.

You hear talking outside your door and prepare yourself, steadying your grip on the vase as the door handle rustles and when the person on the other side realises that the door is locked, they kick it open and you attack. Swinging with all your might, you yell out as you keep your eyes closed, preferring not to see your victim but the vase is stopped and your heart drops at your failed attempt at self-defence.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be happy to see me,” you can hear the smile in his deep voice before opening your eyes and seeing Jongin standing in front of you, hand stopping the vase inches from his angelic face. “If I thought you’d be this angry with me, I would have gotten someone else to rescue you.” You drop the vase and jump on him, not caring for a second about the fighting around you because you are  _free_.

“Sir,” your moment is stolen by the severity in his accomplice’s voice, “we still need to deal with him.” Jongin’s faint smile fades as he nods; interlacing your fingers together with his free hand, Jongin drags you behind him with his gun moving in every direction – ready for an attack at any moment.

Clapping echoes through the foyer as you reach the bottom step and Jongin protectively keeps you behind him. Yixing walks into view, blood coating his crisp, white dress-shirt; he steps over one of his own men as he walks closer with guns trained on him. “That was quite the rescue, Kai. I thought being married would make you weak but look,” he indicates to the slain men on the ground, “you still have it in you.” He chuckles darkly as he looks at you and Jongin, amused with the sight.

Curling his lip, Jongin indicates for one of his men to bring the dealer into the room; you gasp when you see the state of the man, beaten terribly and unable to see, his fingers burnt and he looks like he is about to pass out at any moment. “This is one of  _your_  men,” Jongin snarls, the man being thrown to the ground in front of Yixing, “you planted him in my casino a few days before arriving and had him make sure that you would win. He confessed that you planned the whole thing out to take over my section in Korea but you deviated because of Y/N,” he spits on the ground, “you planned all of that out and then threw your plan away for my woman?” You look up at Jongin, surprised by his words.

Yixing shrugs, unfazed by being found out, “I managed to find your weakness, women were never a weakness for you but more you were their weakness and now,” he points a finger at you with a condescending smile on his lips, “she’ll ruin you.”

It happens so fast; Jongin pulls you into his side, effectively covering your ears and eyes as he lifts his gun and shoots Yixing in the head without a second thought. Yixing collapses to the ground, blood leaking from the wound and you shake because even if you didn’t  _see_  you still  _heard_ the gunshot and with the murderous look in Jongin’s eyes before he pulled you into him – you know he killed Yixing.

You are still frozen, Yixing’s body lying on the ground while the smell of gunpowder burns its way into your memory and Jongin begins to worry when you don’t move from your spot on the bed for thirty minutes.

His hand slowly reaches out to touch you, resting on your shoulder as he bends to look into your eyes; you are zoned out, unable to see the concern in his eyes because all you can see is blood. “Y/N, baby, look at me,” his voice pulls you back, how affectionately he says your name grasps your attention, “you’re safe now.”

You screw up your face as you begin to cry and Jongin hurries to sit beside you, allowing you to collapse into him. You don’t feel sad because he’s dead but you finally are able to let out everything you’ve felt for the past few weeks and have someone comfort you – you still can’t get rid of his face as you close your eyes but at least it is eased slightly by the weight of Jongin’s arms around you.

Jongin pulls you further up the bed, placing his arm under your head as you sob into his chest and he doesn’t say a word; he doesn’t know what to say because never has he been in this situation before but he feels that he should. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through,” he strokes your hair, untangling the knots as gently as he can, “I’m sorry for what you’ve seen and the damage I’ve done to you.” He sighs, looking up at the ceiling and feeling his heart tug at the words he must say, “if you want to leave, I’ll have the car take you to the airport and you can go wherever you want to go – I won’t try to find you and you can start fresh.” You mull over his words, the sincerity in his tone showing you that he means it – more than when he gave you that offer of freedom.

“What if I want to stay?” Your voice is small, unsure because part of you does want to stay but also because you want to hear the words from him – you want him to tell you he wants you to stay with him, not just expect you to.

You can hear his heart beat faster at your words, “if you stayed, I would do it right; I would do everything in my power to show you I’m worthy – I’ll give it all up for you.” You shake your head, you didn’t want him to give up the life he loved living; how could a Mafia King go from being a top dog to being someone’s bitch?

They couldn’t.

“Do you want me to stay?” You rephrase your question, sitting up to look down at Jongin as he studies your features, looking for a catch. “If you want me, I’ll stay.” Jongin doesn’t hesitate, pulling your face down to his so he can kiss your lips like he’s been dreaming for weeks, relaying his answer to you and hoping you understand.

Yes, he does; Jongin has the world in the palm of his hand, he could have anything he wanted but he doesn’t care about that anymore because in this moment, he wants you – forever.

Life with Jongin starts how it has always been, you work as his secretary and do all the paperwork except now you know what Jongin is doing behind the scenes; you know about the deals and the fighting, where the money comes from and how he gets the information he needs – except he no longer sleeps with the women who give it to him. He needs to work on his intimacy issues, find better ways of communicating how he feels but Jongin promised that he would do whatever he had to to make himself worthy of you – and he is.

It’s slow but each day is progress.

You type away on your new laptop; Jongin hates how you would spend nights late in the office, hunched in a chair as you did his work so he bought you a laptop so that if you  _wanted_  to work late at night – you can do that at home, in bed.

There’s a knock on your door before you hear the beep of the keypad and you place the electronic down before making your way to the front door – only to find Jongin leaving a bloody handprint on your wall.

“Jongin!” You rush over to him, letting him collapse his weight on you as he mutters out a greeting; he’s clutching his thigh and you can see that your favourite red suit is now darkening with blood.

He’s been shot.

You help him to your room, sitting him on your bed as you make your way into the ensuite and search for your first aid kit – another gift from Jongin. He’s painfully ridding himself off the jacket and you notice that he hasn’t worn a dress-shirt, again; you see the cut from a blade on his right shoulder, the wound has already stopped bleeding, his ribs are bruised and as you help him remove his pants – you see that it’s a deep wound.

“They say don’t bring a knife to a gun fight,” Jongin half laughs, gritting his teeth in pain, “guess that rule doesn’t apply when you can throw the fuckers.” You settle between his legs and begin to apply the antiseptic while Jongin watches, clenching his teeth at the slight stinging sensation.

You work quickly, now used to patching up his wounds after a few months of doing so, your hands carefully tending to the injury as you inspect whether it’s a hospital trip or not. “You’ll need stitches,” you look up at Jongin, placing your hands on his thighs, “I can’t do that here.” He doesn’t answer; he’s lost in thought at how you look between his legs.

He reaches for you, helping you stand before pulling you onto the bed and causing you to straddle him. He’s sticky, covered in blood and in need of serious medical attention but all Jongin can think about is how beautiful you look; you refused to allow him such a luxury, making him work for it and he’s been more than happy to do so but tonight, how can he resist when you look so damn perfect.

“Later,” he says, his thumb and forefinger gripping your chin as he pulls your lips down to his, he gives you a lingering kiss before pulling away – waiting for you to deny him. “I can survive another hour or two,” he takes his chance at another kiss, this time tilting his head to deepen the kiss and you reciprocate, “I’ll go after.”

He keeps you close, the kiss burning with desire as he runs his hands along your bare thighs and pushing your nightgown higher until your ass is exposed. Jongin grips your waist, grinding your hips over his lap and you gasp at how quickly his erection grew; the hardness firm against your clothed core as he continues to grind you against him.

You worry that this wouldn’t help his situation, his leg needing to be attended to but his soft moans with each grind makes your head spin. “Jongin,” you break the kiss, looking down at his pouting, swollen lips, “this won’t heal your leg. I’m worried it’ll make it worse.” Lying down, Jongin keeps the slow pace while lifting his hips occasionally to add fuel to the fire.

“We’ll take it slow,” you cock an eyebrow and he lets out a guilty laugh, “baby, please; it may not heal my leg but it’ll make me feel a whole lot fucken better after the night I’ve had.” You shake your head, deciding to indulge him in his needs because he’s been good – perfect actually, and he’s never pushed your limits so why deny him any longer?

“Slow,” Jongin nods quickly, eyes brightening at what you’re consenting, “but if you start bleeding over my bed – you’re going to the hospital  _and_  buying me a new bed.”

He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you down so he can capture your lips once more, the kiss messier than previous times; you’re both in a hurry, tongues twisting around each other as you fight to win, your hands reaching for his briefs to remove his erection and Jongin’s fingers deftly move your panties aside to slip inside your wet core.

Jongin keeps your panties to the side as you line him up; slowly lower yourself onto his shaft as you moan into the kiss. You feel full with him sitting completely inside you, touching deep already and you haven’t moved yet; Jongin is the one to break the kiss, hands on your waist as he helps you set the pace – making sure not to move too fast. He bites his lip, watching how your eyes close in pleasure and how perfect you look riding him.

If only he wasn’t injured, he could make you feel even better but his eyes don’t stop watching you; one palm pressed on his chest as you keep pace on your own and Jongin grunts with how tight you are around him.

He’s never wanted to take things so slow, usually a quick fuck before moving on to the next job but with you – Jongin wants the moment to last forever.

You lose yourself, slowly riding Jongin’s firm, thickness as you feel his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips; you want more, knowing you can’t right now but you want to feel how good he’ll feel when he takes control or how intimate he can make it feel.

“Fuck,” he groans, feeling your walls clench around him as your orgasm grows closer; your bodies slick with sweat as you bounce up and down on him, your hands pressed against his chest as Jongin helps. “Keep doing that, baby, fuck; you feel so good.” You clench around him again and he throws his head back, thrusting up and causing you to cry out in pleasure.

Fuck the leg, Jongin steadies himself before thrusting into you, bringing you down hard until your g-spot is hit repeatedly and you find it hard to keep upright. He can feel the sting of pain as the wound is aggravated by his movements but he doesn’t care – hearing you say his name, how breathy you sound as you tell him to keep going; how can he stop?

Your orgasm causes you to curl your toes, arms shaking as you bury your head into Jongin’s shoulder while he keeps fucking you through it – until his own orgasm causes a grunt to pass through clenched teeth and he allows you to collapse on his chest.

Your breathing is heavy, his cock softening inside you as you refuse to move from on top of him. Jongin chuckles, wrapping his arms around you as he keeps you in place, “I think,” he whispers into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine as his quick exhales tickle you skin, “I think we should go to the hospital now.” You quickly sit up, cursing him as you see the blood tickle down his thigh and onto your bedspread.

Yixing told Jongin that you were his weakness, the one thing he cared about more than anything in this world was you and that may be true; you could ruin him, you could be the death of him but to Jongin – you are his strength.

His life was filled with violence, drugs and women – dark emotions filling the organ he called his heart but since you entered his life, since you entered his heart; he’s found a little piece of light in the dark.

Your love was like a bullet, unsuspecting and silenced as it pierced his heart and turned his world upside down but whenever he looks at you – Jongin knows that being shot in the heart with your love is the best thing that’s happen to him in all his years.


End file.
